


Snakes Don't Like to Be Stepped on

by elirwen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, snake bite - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elirwen/pseuds/elirwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin gets bitten by an adder and Arthur is there to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snakes Don't Like to Be Stepped on

Arthur motions for Merlin to hand him his crossbow, watching a doe nibbling at the soft grass. A few birds take off of the tree above them, scaring the deer away. 

Arthur grunts in displeasure. He’s been hunting for hours and hasn't shot a thing so far.

“I don't know why I take you hunting when you're obviously scaring all the game,” Arthur fumes.

“Probably because you need someone to carry all your stuff while you hide beneath the bushes and plan murders of innocent woodland creatures,” Merlin says. “And I'm not to blame. I didn't make a sound. I even tried to stop breathing but it obviously didn't work.”

Arthur knows Merlin is right. He’s been surprisingly competent today. It’s the animals who seem to have gained a sixth sense.

“We'll try a different part of the forest. I'm not returning to the castle empty-handed.”

He sets off towards another one of his favourite hunting grounds. Merlin follows without enthusiasm. 

 

* * *

 

They are walking through another clearing when Arthur hears a clatter from behind and Merlin cursing. 

“I knew your competence wouldn't stay with us for the whole day,” Arthur says as he turns around.

Merlin is sitting on the ground, hands clutching his left calf, his naturally pale skin turning ashen in matter of seconds. Arthur’s at his side in an instant.

“What is it?”

“I... Snake bit me. I probably stepped on it accidentally,” Merlin stumbles over the words.

“Did you notice what kind it was?”

“An adder, I think.”

Merlin's eyes are wide. As a physician’s assistant, he must know how the body reacts to adder’s venom. Arthur lays his hand over Merlin's.

“It'll be fine. Just let me see the wound.”

He pulls Merlin's hands from his leg, rolls up the trousers and indeed finds two bite marks. 

“We’ll make a splint so you don't move the leg too much and get some water to keep the bitten area cold. There's small stream nearby. Once we’ll get you to Gaius, he’ll know what to do next,” Arthur says, keeping his voice calm, and helps Merlin to take off his backpack.

“Or can you heal yourself?” 

He hasn’t known long about Merlin's powers and still doesn’t know the full extend of his knowledge.

“I'm not good with healing others and I don't think I would be any better with myself.”

“Just give it a try,” Arthur encourages him.

Merlin whispers a few words, his eyes glowing gold. The wound is still there. He tries again and then different spell, but to no avail.

“We'll have to go the old-fashioned way then.” Arthur squeezes his hand. “I'm going to look around for something to make a splint. You stay here. And that's an order.”

Merlin nods in reply.

It isn't hard to find a usable branch and soon, he is cleaning the wound with water from his skin, wrapping it in bandage and then fixing the leg with the makeshift splint. He wouldn't be able to carry all of the hunting gear, so he hides what they don't need under a bush, trying to remember the exact position to find it again later, and sets the half-empty bag onto his own shoulders.

He helps Merlin to stand up, supporting him as he wavers slightly.

“We'll take it slow. Just hold on to me and tell me if you feel worse. You set the pace.”

 

* * *

 

They stop near the stream to soak the bandage in the cold water. By then, the calf is already swollen and, judging by Merlin's measured breathing, it must hurt quite a lot.

They manage to cover about a half way to where their left their horses before Merlin pulls from Arthur and braces himself against a tree, head bent down, fighting the sudden nausea. The inevitable happens and he throws up. Arthur stops him from falling down as his legs give out, and gently lowers him down to sit on his healthy leg, supporting him from behind. Tears keep streaming down Merlin’s face as he retches, nothing coming out. When it finally stops, he slumps into Arthur's embrace. 

Arthur runs a hand through Merlin's sweat-damp hair and pressed a kiss to his brow. He slides the bag off, managing to still hold Merlin to his chest, and fishes out the water skin. He offers it to Merlin, letting him rinse his mouth, and washes the tears and sweat from his face.

“Are you ready to move again?” Arthur asks, carding his fingers through Merlin's hair.

“In a minute,” Merlin murmurs into Arthur's shoulder and lets out a long shuddering breath. ‘It hurts,’ is left unsaid, but Arthur can read it in each tense muscle of Merlin’s body, in the pattern of his breathing.

“We're almost there,” Arthur lies.

 

* * *

 

Arthur manages to get Merlin to his feet and practically drags him through the forest. Merlin is sweating, face white as a sheet, his right arm pressed to his abdomen, teeth clenched against the pain.

“My head is spinning,” Merlin says, leaning more heavily on Arthur.

Arthur once again lowers them to the ground.

“Breathe, Merlin, deep. In and out.” 

Merlin tries to obey but soon his eyes roll up and he goes completely limp in Arthur's arms. He lays him on the ground and pats him on the cheek. 

“Come on, Merlin. Wake up.”

Nothing. Another pat.

“Wake up, you idiot.”

No change. He adds a bit more force and slaps Merlin who mumbles something and his eyes flutter open.

“Good. Now, stay with me.” Arthur caresses the abused cheek and hold’s one of Merlin's hands. “I'm going to take off the splint. I can't carry you with it.”

“There's no need, Arthur. I just need a moment.” 

He tries to sit up to prove his point, but Arthur doesn't let him.

“You really are an idiot. You just fainted. I won't let you walk.” 

Arthur unwraps the bandages holding the branch in place and wets a cloth to switch it with the already warmed one. He gathers Merlin in his arms. Merlin clings to him, arms around Arthur's neck, head pressed to his shoulder.

“That's it. Just hold on tight.” Arthur readjusts his grip on Merlin and picks up the fastest pace possible.

 

* * *

 

They stop only once because of another attack of nausea before they reach their horses. Arthur helps Merlin get to the saddle and climbs behind him, the reins of the other steed in his hand.

Merlin tries to sit straight for a while, but soon he’s leaning heavily into Arthur's embrace, chin resting on his own chest as he falls asleep. Arthur isn't sure if it is a good sign and thinks about waking Merlin up but decides against it. Merlin needs rest. Instead, he pulls Merlin flush to himself and positions his head between his neck and shoulder. This way he can feel Merlin's breath on his skin, reassured that he is still alive.

 

* * * 

 

The night has already fallen when they arrive back to the castle. Merlin is awake at the moment, but only barely. Arthur hands the reins to a stable boy and slides off the saddle. Merlin dismounts after him, landing unsteadily. He would have tumbled to the ground if Arthur wasn't ready to catch him. Arthur doesn't hesitate and sweeps Merlin off his feet, cradling him to his chest with utmost care. Merlin doesn't say a word, just presses himself close.

 

* * *

 

Arthur crashes the door to Gaius's chambers open and speaks before Gaius can even start asking.

“He was bitten by an adder.”

He lays Merlin down on the cot, Merlin's eyes closed again, and uncovers the wound.

“When did it happen?” Gaius asks while studying the marks.

“About six hours ago. He vomited twice, fainted once and was unconscious for most of the ride back. He was awake for a short while when we arrived.”

Gaius starts rummaging through the bottles on one of the shelves and returns with one. 

“Could you prop him up a bit, Sire?”

Arthur lifts Merlin and slides behind him, laying Merlin's head on his thigh. 

“I'm going to give him an antidote. It should help with his recovery.”

“Should?” Arthur is stroking Merlin's hair absentmindedly. 

“Some patients can develop a reaction to the antidote that is worse than the effect of the poisoning.”

“Then maybe we shouldn't give it to him.” Arthur is watching Merlin's still form with worry.

“From what you told me, it seems that Merlin's reaction to the venom is worse than usual. And unconsciousness is never a good sign. We need to risk it.”

Arthur nods and lifts Merlin a bit more, making it easier for him to swallow the potion Gaius pours into his mouth.

“I'll look at the wound now, clean it to stop it from inflaming,” Gaius says once the flask is empty.

Arthur pillows Merlin's head on his thigh again, continues petting his hair and watches the steady rise and fall of his chest. They don't have to hide their feelings here. Gaius knows and doesn't judge them for it.

“How long before the antidote starts working?”

“It should be quick. He should wake up in next few hours and feel better. He should be out of danger by then.”

“I'll take him to my chambers after.”

Gaius doesn't even try to oppose the decision. He knows it would be pointless.

“He will be weak for couple of days and complete recovery will take up to three weeks.”

“I'll take good care of him,” Arthur says softly and means it.

 

* * * 

 

Merlin wakes up in the middle of the night with a terrible headache and a throbbing pain in his leg. He feels fingers gently carding through his hair and opens his eyes to find Arthur looking at him from above. 

“Finally awake, then,” Arthur smiles at him.

“How long?” Merlin's voice is rough, his throat dry.

“Just a few hours. Do you want some water?”

“Yes, please.”

Arthur helps him sit up and holds out the cup for him. He steadies it when Merlin takes it in his slightly trembling hands and drinks.

“Are you in pain?” Arthur asks after placing the empty cup on the table. “And don't lie,” he adds as an afterthought.

“My head hurts. And the leg.”

“Gaius instructed me to give you one of these for it.” He points to the small flasks standing on the table. “They should help with the pain and make you sleepy as a side-effect, so I suggest we move you first and give you the potion later.”

Merlin nods. Arthur lowers him down to a pillow, collects the flasks from the table into a pouch and hands it to Merlin.

“Hold it,” he says before lifting Merlin into his arms once again.

“I could walk on my own. I feel better,” Merlin says, but snuggles closer anyway.

“You'd trip over your own feet before leaving this room. Besides, with you limping through the castle, we'd get there sometime around dawn and the bed is waiting.”

Merlin chuckles and presses a kiss under Arthur's jaw.

“Let's not keep the bed waiting then.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin automatically lights the fire in the hearth as the door click shut behind them.

“You're supposed to be resting.”

“My magic is alright. And I hate cold. I did it so I could rest.”

“You really are a difficult patient, aren't you?”

“Says the person who begged me not to leave him alone for a single moment with his little cold.”

Arthur tucks Merlin under the covers and goes to retrieve his sleeping pants from the wardrobe, changing into them quickly while continuing the conversation.

“It wasn't little. I felt awful.”

“Your temperature wasn’t even raised.”

“You should be glad that you make me feel better.”

There is a short silence before Merlin says softly, “I am.”

Arthur climbs on the bed with the bottle of Gaius's potion and waits for Merlin to drink it, laughing when he sees Merlin grimacing at the taste. He earns himself a weak jab into his side. He puts the flask back on the table and finally settles next to Merlin who immediately shuffles close and tucks himself to Arthur's side, wrapping his arm around Arthur's waist.

“You make me feel better too,” Merlin whispers, looking Arthur in the eyes. 

The potion is already draining his pain away, making his eye lids grow heavy.

“Sleep, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs and kisses him on the forehead.

Merlin's breathing evens out and Arthur watches his relaxed face illuminated by the flicking fire before he too surrenders to the exhaustion of the long day.


End file.
